I’ve started conscientiously forcing myself to do things that scare me, whether big or small. At first I admittedly regretted signing up for theater class this quarter, but after that final performance of that assigned play, I felt an addictive jolt of euphoria and accomplishment—that once-familiar feeling of pushing one’s boundaries and succeeding.
So I’ve started asking myself, every day:
What are you afraid of?
Is this worth being afraid of?
Are you going to let it stop you from acting upon it?
If I can give a performance in which I’m screaming my lungs out (though thankfully not in front of anyone who knows me well), I can do many other things that scare me. Fear is a fleeting feeling, but disappointment lasts longer.
I will always be afraid of something or another, but I refuse to let fear dictate my life.
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